What do you sound like when you talk? What’s your tone, pace, volume? What’s your speaking style? Style is one of those vague words we’ll explore here to identify exactly what does voice mean in a college essay.
What is voice in writing? Think of your writer’s voice as the fraternal twin of your spoken one. They aren’t identical, but there are big similarities—especially in a space like college essays where your goal is to share who you are.
Whether it’s a personal statement or even a brief supplemental essay, you want your personality to make sound waves in the mind’s ear as much as pictures in the mind’s eye. Are you writing so someone can hear how you talk—and also hear the monologue in your head?
Think of your words as akin to audio of you making a presentation to admission officers. If these readers hear you, they will feel like they’re getting to know your personality and character as much as your deeds. Which might just move you onto the short list.
Below, we’ll cover how you can see and name your writing voice—your personal style—and also some tips and exercises to enhance it.
But first …
Why does voice matter in writing?
Voice is one way you can help admission readers understand who you are, which is one of the primary jobs of college essays.
Our friend Tom, who used to work in admissions at Pomona, likes to put it this way: many colleges (especially highly-selective colleges) aren’t collecting academic markers—they have way more than enough qualified applicants. Instead, they’re building a village.
Voice can help them see how you fit in the village they want to create.
Important note: this is also one of the dangers when parents edit a student's essays—it can end up sounding like a 40 or 50 year old is applying to college. That’ll tend to hurt (if not get red-flagged outright).
WAIT—Don’t Admission Readers Want Only One Kind of Style?
Yes and no. But mostly no.
Admission readers do want you dressing up some for this “interview.” Think more in the direction of “business casual” than “tank top and flip flops”.
In other words, remove the verbal PJs, don a pair of pants, sip some water, and enunciate clearly.
But admission readers do prefer a natural flow to your voice: they welcome some colloquialisms, vernacular, and slang. They want your vocabulary to be natural, not hyper-steroidal, polysyllabic word parades (which will actually hurt you anyway).
Don’t assume that a simpler word isn’t the best word for the job—it frequently is. If you tend to say “psychic,” then stick with that. If you typically say “soothsayer” or “prognosticator,” by all means, then sally forth with those.
Your typical vocabulary (versus fancy thesaurus synonyms you’d personally never use) is preferred by college admission readers, who can really tell the difference between an overwritten, overcoached, other-authored essay, and your natural voice.
It’s better to sound like yourself, rather than your imagined version of what an admissions officer, professor, or somebody “collegiate” sounds like, or, as of recently, than like AI.
But What is Voice, Really? What are techniques for creating voice? List, Please
Sure, here you go:
Voice is … lens.
It’s your angle, view, perspective on things. It’s when you show your opinion and attitude about the details of your world. Your lens shows when you explain why certain details matter to you and what they mean. It’s the “So What” part of your essay.
For example, from “Makeup”:
“Examining these mementos led me to a surprising realization: yes, I had been a superficial girl obsessed with clear and flawless skin.
But there was something more too.
My makeup had given me confidence and comfort, and that was okay. I am glad I didn't abandon the superficial me, but instead acknowledged her, and stood by her to take her on an enlightening and rewarding journey.”
— — —
See how this writer’s lens is about her “realization,” discovering a new angle and perspective? She’s analyzing, evaluating, and drawing conclusions of why what some might deem minor, makeup, is actually a major thing to her. The fact that she analyzes herself in third person shows that she’s pulled the camera back to do some heavy-duty self-assessment. How many angles might you try?
Voice is … specifics.
It’s the details you choose to show, the movie you make for the reader. You create imagery by choosing just-right, rich details, so that you rise right off the page. It’s especially figurative language: metaphor, simile, hyperbole, personification, alliteration, and more.
For example, from “Umbra”:
“Christmas carols play softly as I chase my little brother around the living room, trying to get him to wear a Santa hat. The smell of tamales wafts through the air as my mom and grandmother stand over the pot of mole sauce. The ornament boxes are opened on the floor, each one special to our family, representing our adventures, our love, our history. My dad is winding a mile-long string of lights around the tree, covering the room with a soft glow.”
— — —
See how this writer’s specifics include active verbs (chase, wafts, winding) and strong nouns and objects that immediately cue pictures in our head (Santa hat, tamales, mole sauce, lights, soft glow)? There’s even a cool hyperbole: we know the lights aren’t probably a mile long, but they feel like they go on forever when you’re trimming a tree.
(More about how to show versus tell, here.)
Voice is … vulnerability.
It’s opening the window to your thoughts, feelings, and soul. You create vulnerability when you, for example, use interior monologue, narration that shares emotions and the rest of the ticker running through your head and heart. Or you might share insights into some part of you, a relationship, or situation: an authentic assessment. This element is a close cousin of the “So What?” part, if not sometimes the same thing.
For example, from “Laptop Stickers”:
“He brings out my goofy side, but also helps me think rationally when I am overwhelmed. We don't have the typical "I hate you, don't talk to me" siblinghood (although occasionally it would be nice to get away from him); we're each other's best friends. Or at least he's mine.”
— — —
See how this writer’s vulnerability shows in her parenthetical statement and also her final admission that she needs him as a best friend, even if he doesn’t feel the same?
“Your eyes never existed before on this earth. Let us see what they see, and you will have told us as powerfully as possible more than you know.”
-Bonnie Friedman, Writing Past Dark: Envy, Fear, Distraction, and Other Dilemmas in the Writer’s Life
— — —
Voice is … humor.
Yes, it’s totally fine, and often a good thing, to crack jokes, use word play, and wax ironic.
For example, from “Poop, Animals, and the Environment”:
“I have been pooped on many times. I mean this in the most literal sense possible. I have been pooped on by pigeons and possums, house finches and hawks, egrets and eastern grays.”
— — —
See how the humor comes with the surprise—what, you’re talking about poop in a college essay?–and by the sheer length of the list—the excessive nature of her situation. Humor is many things, but surprise and scale are two main features you can use to crack a joke.
What if you’re not a natural comic? Also fine. Don’t try to force humor. Just be you.
Voice is … rhythm.
It’s cadence, pacing, beats, repetition, and flow. It’s number of syllables, sentence length, paragraph length, and alternating sentence lengths as well. It’s punctuation—type of and placement of. It’s diction and syntax repetition.
For example, compare the various rhythms created by different uses of paragraph and sentence length between “Home” and “The ‘Not Black Enough’ East-Asian Influenced Bibliophile.” Read aloud so you can feel the differences in flow and intensity between these two pieces in the first few lines and also so you can see how the flow alternates within the paragraphs themselves.
Voice is … diction.
It’s word choice: connotations and associations, syllables, and etymology. It’s word length. It’s showing words versus telling words. It’s the King’s English and whatever is considered “standard” language at the moment while also your own idiosyncratic diction, dialect, It’s dialect, familect, any-lect.
For example, from “Quattro Lingue”:
“Day 1: “Labbayka Allāhumma Labbayk. Labbayk Lā Sharīka Laka Labbayk,” we chant, sweat dripping onto the wispy sand in brutal Arabian heat, as millions of us prepare to march from the rocky desert hills of Mount Arafat to the cool, flat valleys of Muzdalifa.”
— — —
Note how this writer uses diction special to their culture and lived experience, placing the words in dialogue and quotation marks, as part of an opening scene. Right away we are in this writer’s world.
Voice is … syntax.
It’s standard or experimental sentence structure. It’s complete sentences and fragments.
For example, also from “Quattro Lingue”:
“Show me hijabs.”
“Silk or cotton?”
“Both.”
“How much do these cost?”
“100 Riyal.”
“No. Take 70.”
“Fine. Thanks Hajjah.”
— — —
You’ll notice that certain techniques we share above (italicized) creating elements of voice (punctuation, diction, etc.) aren’t special to just one element of voice; they can overlap.
You don’t have to try all of the above moves. Find a few that “speak” to you most (puns!). But seriously: just a pick a few of these moves and/or amp ones you already have.
“Style is, well, stylish…When we talk about craft, or voice, we’re talking about word tricks: games, metaphors, images…the notes of that song you’re singing. We’re also talking about doing the best job you can of getting the stuff in your head onto the page, in a way that represents you. And using each little word to create a sense of forward motion in your mind, and the mind of anyone else who reads your stuff.”
Charlie Jane Anders, Never Say You Can’t Survive
— — —
Name that style
Try reviewing the student examples below and seeing if you can name which technique to create voice they use.
Read aloud if you can, then read silently, and name as many as you can hear or see.
Example 1:
“I enjoy life most when I’m somewhere I’m not supposed to be.
Let me explain.
I’ve never jumped a fence or run from security, but I do have an affinity for unbounded exploring. Part of my adventurousness may be attributed to my childhood dream of becoming a spy, sneaking into places like a less-cool James Bond.”
— — —
Full essay here
Example #2:
“Growing up, my world was basketball. My summers were spent between the two solid black lines. My skin was consistently tan in splotches and ridden with random scratches. My wardrobe consisted mainly of track shorts, Nike shoes, and tournament t-shirts. Gatorade and Fun Dip were my pre-game snacks. The cacophony of rowdy crowds, ref whistles, squeaky shoes, and scoreboard buzzers was a familiar sound.”
— — —
Full essay here
Example #3:
“‘Ooh, did you say it produces smoke constantly?’ asks H, to which I respond with a sigh. I already know where he’s going with this. Whenever I play Dungeons and Dragons (D&D) with my friends, we always run into some unique problems. The problem with playing D&D is that you tend to share the interest with a very eccentric group of people. I want to say stereotyping is bad but it’s pretty spot-on here. We are a gang of very STEM-oriented computer nerds, and we relish it.”
— — —
Example #4
“My 13-year-old brother often sends his messages with the poop emoji 'echo effect,' so whenever I open a new message from him, hundreds of poops elegantly cascade across my screen.”
— — —
Full essay here
Example #5
“$630. That is how much a single pair of Hermès’ Oran Sandals cost—$830 if you want the same sandals but with little studs. This is why it was so baffling to see five pairs of them on my first college tour. Was this what I should have worn? Did I need to shop at my nearest Nordstrom to be accepted into the culture of my future classmates?”
— — —
Example #6
“It’s 8:30pm on a Friday night and I’m screaming “Waving Through a Window” in my car. When I get home, I sprint to my room and start dancing, belting the song from Dear Evan Hansen. I collapse onto my bed and take a deep breath, feeling thankful for all of today’s adventures at rehearsal.”
— — —
Example #7
“Draco Malfoy made me realize I’m gay. It’s about as weird it sounds.
Between 7 and 11, I was obsessed with Harry Potter, particularly Draco Malfoy. I think it was because he seemed misunderstood: Harry’s limited perspective doesn't let us see all there is to his character. As I grew older, I discovered the Internet, and learned that holy shit people are writing stories about characters in Harry Potter and HOLY SHIT THEY THINK DRACO IS GAY. I took comfort in the idea that Draco could be queer. I felt seen.”
— — —
Full essay of “Draco” here
Note that there’s a super strong example of voice in “Draco” when the author writes “That’s feminist as fuck.” but it’s also risky: some admission officers might read it and think “Uhh, no. Inappropriate.” But Smith loved it :).
How to create voice: Exercises
1. Sound Check. Name That Tune
Record yourself telling a funny story or a great memory while sharing it with a friend, family member, or other person you trust.
Get it converted to text, or, just listen.
Annotate and highlight your voice with any of the techniques described above.
Ask others to describe your speaking style and/or writing style. Ask for adjectives that get at tone, vibe, spirit, personality. Ask others to point to places in your prose where the voice is apparent.
2. Write from a place of passion and expertise.
All these brainstorming exercises—Essence Objects, 21 Details, Values Exercise—invite you to think about what matters to you, what makes you tick. What lifts your soul and spirits. If you tap into these topics—your skills, values, interests, and accomplishments—the voice will come. Your enthusiasm and interest will flow, and words will follow.
Convert these brainstorming details into full sentences, using stream-of-consciousness writing for 3-5 minutes. Don’t stop writing for the entire time; just let messiness flow. Take a break, then go back to the writing to find a phrase or line you might keep. Where do you see voice emerging? Can you find a line that might open a paragraph? That might be a great line in the middle or end of a paragraph? Maybe the opening line of your essay?
3. Images R U.
Content is king and queen and everything in between. The more specific and cinematic the details, and the more real and special to you, the more voice emerges.And keep asking: Are they (at least a little) vulnerable?
Do freewrites where you tell the full stories—beginning, middle, and ending—of an idea brainstormed. Example: take 1 essence object or 1 of the 21 details and make a whole scene. For more on this technique, and how to generate three scenes of yourself for a montage essay: Follow Your Heart in the College Essay.
Revise details and examples to make sure you show, show, show. Can the reader experience things through the five senses, or active verbs, or dialogue, or interior monologue? Share details that matter to you, worrying less about the full picture and more about your particular perspective with a few, select details.
4. Share your perspective.
Note how essay prompts often ask for perspectives, beliefs, and opinions. Which topics bring up strong feelings? It’s good to follow those and free write till some lines emerge that show where you stand.
Answer this prompt to make a quick list of feelings and opinions: What makes me jump for joy? Rant? Yearn? What frustrates me? Motivates me? Scares me?
If you feel a bit murky about what exactly your lens or perspective is? try these 4 Values-Focused College Essay Brainstorming Exercises.
5. Make Some Metaphors
Try finding images for yourself. Are you an elephant, a dandelion, a sock, a dust mote, a fever, the 1920s—what? Try a free write where you list “a million metaphors” and see if you come up with a voice-y line that feels like you.
Ask friends, family, and any trusted ones to give you their metaphors and similes for you. If you decide to use or riff off those, then acknowledge the source. Use those as prompts to start writing. Example: “Mom calls me a Tesla, Dad calls me a Model T, and I believe I'm a '68 Mustang."
For more complex metaphor making, try completing these prompts:
My life is…
My past is…
My future is…
My attitude is…
My lens is…
My voice is…
6. Play with rhythm and pacing, diction
For a story or example with lots of action or many events, try shorter sentences to speed or slow the pace. For a story or example where you want to convey the energy of breathlessness and intensity, try a longer sentence with less punctuation.
Try punctuation you haven’t tried before and see what it does to the flow of a sentence. For example: Use a colon to make a “drum roll” type of announcement to get your reader’s attention, or to do a more detailed explanation. For more on the difference between semicolons, colons, and em dashes, head to Grammarly or check CEG’s style guide.
7. Read your writing aloud at least a few times during the revision process…
…and try with an audience at least one of those times. Watch how you want to adjust as you try to keep a reader’s attention. Watch the energy and cues from your reader.
Your college essays are the sound of your voice telling stories, taking readers through a series of thoughts and experiences. Let us hear you.
Answer Key
Answer, example 1
Voice here =
lens: When the writer talks about what they haven’t done, and what they have done, and then looks into causes, we sense early on an analytical soul, willing to plumb their own depths. “I’ve never jumped a fence or run from security, but I do have an affinity for unbounded exploring. Part of my adventurousness may be attributed to …”
rhythm: one-line paragraphs and alternating short and long sentences
specifics: jumping fences, running from security, James Bond
two types of diction: casual, simpler diction (“less-cool” contrasting with more polysyllabic, complex words like “affinity” and “unbounded”). Note how the choice to say “Let me explain” is very talk-to-the-reader chatty, as in, “I see you, Admission Officer?”
vulnerability: “less-cool”
Style: bold, direct, confident, humorous, self-deprecating
Answer, example 2
specifics: colors, sounds, proper nouns, and lists of Essence Objects
diction: an abbreviated word such as “ref” with “cacophony”
rhythm: the repeated syntax of subject + “was”
Style: straightforward, factual, journalistic
Answer, example 3
specifics: proper nouns, actions, character, dialogue
lens: “I want to say stereotyping is bad but…”
diction: old-school cussing, such as “darned”—which is also humor
rhythm: fragment questions interspersed with longer imperative answers/sentences.
Style: playful, humorous, conversational
Answer, example 4
Voice here =
vulnerability: The writer is bold enough to bring up a reality of her brother’s poop emoji joke. It’s one of those good risks to take, because admission readers get what family dynamics are like, and this is humorous. It’s not graphic or too silly; it’s a statement of fact that leads to the next element: humor.
humor: She contrasts the slapstick image of poop emoji with atypical diction: “elegantly cascade across my screen.”
Style: playful, lyrical, open
Answer, example 5
lens: The barrage of questions shows someone who critiques the status quo.
rhythm: fragments interspersed with longer sentences, and use of questions and em dashes creates an “inside the head” authentic voice, plus repetition of the same syntax: “That is how” and “This is why”
specifics: sandals, prices, Nordstrom
vulnerability: the questions are interior monologue, honest and real
Style: bold, questioning, critical
Answer, example 6
lens: Note how this writer has a camera on their shoulder, essentially, walking us through moment by moment of their life.
specifics: active verbs, song titles, objects such as car and bed let us see the writer in their space
vulnerability: the writer is willing to admit that they sing loud in their car and that they dance with themselves. Authenticity is built on specificity and openness.
Style: energetic, journalistic, cinematic
Answer, example 7
lens: The writer is speaking directly to an audience, showing an awareness of what others might think and how they might need explication of the opening line. We sense someone who’s authentic and real, sharing intimate details.
rhythm: A very short opening paragraph with two, short, declarative sentences. Two run-on sentences, and one in all caps, to convey a sense of breathless intensity.
specifics: proper names, ages/numbers, book titles, interior monologue
vulnerability: sharing sexual orientation and using colloquial language and cuss words
Style: bold, conversational, open, intimate, confident, humorous
Special thanks to Lyn Fairchild Hawks and Andrew Simpson for writing this blog post.
Written by Lyn Fairchild Hawks, founder of Success Story essay consulting. Lyn is a graduate of Stanford University and the Vermont College of Fine Arts program in Writing for Children and Young Adults. She loves helping students tell cinematic, insightful stories. She is also the author of young adult novels, short stories, and books for educators, including lessons for teaching Shakespeare. For 15 years she designed and ran online programs for gifted youth at Duke University and prior to that, served as a high school and middle school English teacher. She lives in Chapel Hill, NC.
Top values: Growth / Diversity / Empathy
Andrew Simpson has worked as an educator, consultant, and curriculum writer for the past 15 years, and earned degrees from Stanford in Political Science and Drama. He feels most at home on mountain tops and in oceans.
Top Values: Insight/Growth | Truth | Integrity
